


Dinner for Two

by FictionDaze



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Apron Kink, Established Relationship, Flirty, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionDaze/pseuds/FictionDaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk makes dinner for McCoy, but it doesn't turn out like he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner for Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yoh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoh/gifts).



Kirk wiped the flour from his palms onto his gold apron, leaving powdery white streaks in his wake. He sighed when he realized how dusty his fingers still felt. His eyes wandered over the countertops and he took in the glops and trails of batter that had sieged the kitchen during his confrontation with the eggbeater. This entire ordeal was rapidly growing more and more unpleasant and the captain was beginning to wonder why he'd thought this would be a good idea in the first place.

He checked the timer again for about the thousandth time and once again opened the oven to see if the cake was complete. The pale dough still sat idly in the pan. It had not yet risen and according to his timer it wouldn't for a while. He heaved another sigh and closed the door to the device and began to tidy up the kitchen.

Just as he was reaching for the broom to clean the miniature mounds of flour from the floor, he heard a knock at the living room door.

"Already?" Jim muttered to himself in panic. He dusted his hands off again nervously and made his way to the door. The dining room he passed through on his way to the living space made him feel uneasy. The house was so big, too big really, in comparison to the quarters he'd become accustomed to over the last few years in space.

Kirk opened the door in a flurry, trying not to pant as he welcomed McCoy into his house. "Hi, Bones! Come in!"

"Hey, Jim. Good to see you, I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost in this place." Leonard smirked as he stepped into the fine foyer of Jim's earthly home. The older man held a bottle of wine to his chest, but quickly offered it to his companion once the door was closed behind them.

"Only once or twice," Jim said a bit humorlessly as he accepted the gift. "This is nice, Bones," he said, brightening. "But you didn't have to bring anything."

"Are you kidding? You think I trust you to supply something worth drinking? Nah." Bones's eyes openly scanned the decor as Kirk led the doctor through the living room and into the dining area. "Nice place, guess they pay captains pretty well. I should think--" McCoy's words suddenly halted as his friend open the door to the dining room and revealed the candle-lit table that was already set for two.

Decadent white china sat at either side of the small oak table and two thin-stemmed wine glasses awaited them beside the plates.

"Oh, Jim, you really went through some effort didn't you. I don't know what to say," Leonard spoke softly, he was genuinely breath taken.

"Save your praise until after you've had dinner, the appreciation may fade," Kirk replied nervously as he twisted the bottle of wine between his hands.

Bones noticed the look of concern on Kirk's face and gently pulled the other man into his arms. "Relax, Jim. It looks fantastic."

Kirk cocked his head to the side and gave an unsteady laugh. "Looks and tastes aren't the same thing."

"I'm sure I'll love whatever you made," Leonard said and placed a tender kiss to Kirk's cheek.

The captain gave a genuine laugh at the affection and playfully shoved Bones toward one of the chairs and sat the wine bottle on the table. "Sit down. I'll go get the pasta."

Leonard smirked and obliged, taking his seat and quickly covering his lap with one of the available napkins Kirk had set out. "Ooo, pasta."

Captain Kirk rushed to the kitchen and stirred the pasta on the stove and was grateful to see it still appeared edible and warm. Reflexively he checked on the cake again and saw that it was only just beginning to bubble. Satisfied that they had time to begin dinner before the cake was ready, Kirk lifted the pot from the top of the stove and carried it into the dining room.

By the time he had returned, McCoy had already served the wine and--Kirk guessed--likely sampled it as well. Kirk set the large dish down on the table and began to move the cheese-coated noodles onto McCoy's plate with a serving spoon. He dropped three spoonfuls onto the platter before smiling and handing it back to his lover. "Good thing you're a doctor, bon appetite." 

McCoy laughed low in his throat, plucked his fork from the table, jabbed the prongs into a well-spiced noodle, and took a deliberate bite. He chewed the morsel slowly and swallowed, his expression revealing nothing as Kirk waited impatiently beside him.

"Well?" The captain urged.

"Not bad," McCoy said before placing his fork back on the table.

Kirk eyed the utensil warily. "You hate it."

"It's delicious," McCoy laughed before reaching out to grab Kirk's hip. With one strong motion he pulled the younger man toward him. "I just wanted to free up my hands so I could tell you what I thought of this little apron of yours."

Kirk suddenly felt as though every drop of his blood had rushed to his face. He wondered if such a thing was even medically possible, but he couldn't ask his doctor about it since the man was currently preoccupied running his hands over and under the gold material of the captain's apron.  
"Don't you just look like a regular housewife in this," McCoy teased as one hand clutched Kirk's hip to hold him firmly in place and the other wrapped the fabric of the apron around his fist. 

"Cute, Bones. Very charming," Kirk tried to feign annoyance, but his mind was slowly slipping from dinner to other matters.

Leonard pushed the apron upward until Kirk's shirt was sliding up too. The doctor grinned at the exposed strip of flesh and cocked his head to the side. "You know, this gold looks sensational against your skin. Maybe the next time you cook me dinner you can wear this again. _Just_ this."

Kirk drew in a sharp breath and gently shoved McCoy’s shoulders and took a step back. "I'm never cooking for you again if you can't be bothered to prove it's even edible."

McCoy laughed and turned back to the meal he'd been presented. "Alright, Jim. You win. I'll eat. I just don't know how I'm supposed to focus on eating when I haven't gotten to see you in three days."

"You're not getting out of it. You said you'd eat my experiments and you will." Kirk hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the basket of rolls he'd bought from the store and returned and placed them in the center of the table. He moved to untie his apron and join his lover at the table, but McCoy’s words interrupted him.

"Leave it on," Leonard said with one eyebrow quirked seductively.

Kirk couldn't help but chuckle, but he obliged and sat down with the flour-dusted apron still in place. He served himself some noodles and happily watched as McCoy dug into the meal without hesitation.

"So, are you getting stir-crazy yet?" Kirk asked between bites.

"Mad," Bones snorted. He lifted his glass and took a long drink of his wine. "Longest shore leave ever. Don't see why we couldn't have picked up what we needed from a supply planet."

Kirk shrugged his shoulders. "People wanted to visit home. We were close. It seemed cruel to deny the request. Besides, there was some urgent business with the admirals."

"Everything alright?" Bones suddenly looked concerned.

"Everything is fine now. Have you enjoyed the time off at all?"  
Bones smirked, took another bite, and spoke around the noodles, "Having a better time now."

The two chatted for a while and Kirk was pleased by how indulgent McCoy seemed in the meal. The wine went well with it, which was sheer luck, but made the night that much nicer. 

Unfortunately with the light buzz in the back of his mind and the slight heat in his face, it was sometimes easy for Kirk to become distracted. Bones had been chatting about work when Kirk's eyes had traveled downward and discovered the delightful plumpness of his lover's lips. They had a sheen of oil from the noodles and looked glossy and bright under the low light of the candles. They moved in perfect shapes as Bones went on and on about some new protocol he detested. The words sort of drifted into the background as Kirk zeroed in on those lips and thought about how useful they could be--especially so slick.

"Do you know what I mean, Jim?" Bones growled and looked at his companion expectantly.

"Yeah," Jim said dreamily.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?" Those beautiful lips turned down into a frown and Jim snapped slightly out of his reverie. "Huh? What is it?"

"Do you smell that?" Bones lifted his nose into the air and gave a sniff, his forehead crinkled as he tried to discern the scent. "Are you cooking something else?"

Kirk felt sudden adrenaline rush into his veins. "Crap! The cake!" The young captain launched out of his seat and surged into the kitchen. He looked at the egg timer only to see the traitorous little thing had finished ticking and he had no way of knowing how long ago.

He threw open the oven's door and revealed the lightly blackened cake. "Damn it!"

"Everything okay, Jim?" Bones wandered into the kitchen and watched as Kirk tossed the pan onto the top of the stove in frustration.

"It's totally ruined."

"I'm sorry, Jim. If I'd known you were making cake I would have reminded you to check on it." McCoy walked across the room and placed his hands on Kirk's shoulders.

The younger man heaved a sigh and glared at the cake. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but the stupid timer didn't go off." Kirk secretly wondered if there was an invisible race of tiny aliens that lived on Earth that got kicks out of turning off alarms. 

"Maybe it's still salvageable?" Bones peered over his lover's shoulder and inspected the burnt cake. "Oh--er, maybe we can go get ice-cream?"

Kirk shook his head and clenched his jaw to keep himself restrained. Then he let out a long low sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, Bones."

McCoy turned the younger man around so they were face to face and tugged him close for a soft kiss. When he pulled back he glanced around the kitchen and saw most of the cake supplies were still out and about. "Hey, look it's no big deal. We can bake another one. How's that sound?"

Kirk grinned. "You want to help me bake a cake?"

"Sure. How hard can it be?" Kirk only glowered in response. "Right, well. Together is better. We'll figure it out." With that he strutted over to the cabinets and started throwing them open. "Where do you keep your mixing bowls?"

Kirk couldn't believe their romantic dinner had turned into team baking, but he didn't really mind. "Third door on your left. Other left. There you go."

The captain gathered the recipe, flour, and other dry supplies and carried them over to Bones. He hadn't quite finished cleaning up his old mess and he figured they might as well start on a fresh workspace.

"Not that I mind," Bones said as he started measuring out flour, "But why didn't you just buy one of those box mix cakes?"

"I wanted it all to be home-cooked. Authentic," Kirk confessed as he fetched the eggs.

"Do you do anything half-way?" McCoy chuckled.

"If I did would I be in my position?"

"I don't suppose so." Preparing the new cake went well for a little while. The two joked around as they added the ingredients and Kirk was happy his mistake hadn't ruined the evening.

McCoy found he was fairly pleased that events had taken a turn. He liked watching Jim move around the kitchen, his ego not quite masking his uncertainty in the art of baked goods. The younger male was so exact in everything he normally did that it was rewarding to see him so vulnerable and awkward.

As Kirk mixed the last of the ingredients into a thin dough, McCoy found himself watching the strong muscles of the youth's arms as they tensed. His eyes followed the lines of Kirk's body and took in his determined eyes, pursed lips, and flour-blushed cheek.

It slowly, almost painfully, dawned on the older man that Kirk looked very, very tasty in the kitchen.

McCoy used Kirk's distraction to his advantage and skirted behind the other man and wrapped his arms around his chest.

Kirk laughed at the touch and lifted his arms so he could continue stirring the batter. "What are you doing, Bones? This hard enough to get the clumps out of as it is."

"Mmhmm," McCoy hummed against the top of Kirk's head. "You smell nice. Like cake."

"That's probably because I've made two cakes tonight. Why don't you make sure the oven is set to the right temperature?"

"Oh trust me," Bones said as his fingers trailed down and gripped and kneaded into Kirk's hips, "It's nice and hot."

"Geez, Bones." Kirk felt his face heating up again. He set the bowl down on the counter, gripped his friend's wrists, and tried to wriggle free. Bones wasn't having any of that and tightened his fingers on his prize and dipped his face down to nuzzle against the back of Kirk's neck. The younger man drew in a sharp breath. "Do you want this cake or not?"

"I just decided on a much better desert," Bones whispered hotly into Kirk's ear.

Kirk felt the hot air rush out over his skin and he shuddered with pleasure. "Distracting ass," he muttered, but leaned toward his lover until his back was pressed firmly to McCoy's chest.

"It sure is," Bones growled and moved one hand back to grope at the curve of Kirk's rear. 

"Damn!" Kirk jolted and Bones laughed and flipped the man around in his arms. Kirk leaned forward and captured his companion's lips. Though their kisses up until now had been fleeting, this was indulgent.

Kirk ran his tongue along Bones's bottom lip before tugging the soft flesh between his teeth. He suckled on the skin until he could feel it swelling between his own lips. He dipped his tongue inward and lapped at the unique ridges on the roof of McCoy’s mouth until the older man let out a low moan of pleasure. Kirk pulled back then and dappled Bone's chin and cheek with shorter kisses and gave the man another playful push. "Come on. You're a bad baker."

McCoy couldn't repress a laugh as he wrapped his arms around Kirk's center and plucked him from the ground. The captain squirmed in retaliation for a moment until he was dropped onto the counter in the flour residue created from the mixing the second cake. The batter sat forgotten as Bones reached up and reclaimed Kirk's mouth.

The kitchen warmed around them as the oven grew hotter and their lips pressed and parted. Kirk could feel his concerns for the night flying into the distance. They, like most worries about the doctor, were needless. The captain's mind was flitting away from desires of dinner to roam over the possibilities of the evening.

McCoy's fingers touched first on the counter and collected the white dust, then moved to clutch at his lover, leaving more streaks over his already powered apron, shirt, and light hair.

Kirk could feel desire spreading over him like icing on a cake, thick and luscious. He'd wanted a quiet night, a bit of chatting, maybe a chaste kiss or two, but this was better. I love you, he thought to McCoy gratefully, but his lips were too busy to be bothered to shape the words. Instead they roamed down and parted so Kirk could nibble at McCoy's jaw before being knocked off course so that Bones could latch onto the captain's neck.

Kirk only groaned as the familiar flesh rubbed against his sensitive erogenous zone. The teeth and hot breath as McCoy whispered affection were just strawberries on top of the seduction. 

When they finally parted their chests heaved and they looked at each other with glazed eyes and amused expressions. "Why don't we save this cake for another time?" McCoy suggested.

Kirk shifted suggestively off the counter and bumped his shoulder against the doctor's as he strolled past him. "Why don't we?"

McCoy's eyes followed the mischievous captain as he sauntered over and turned off the stove before collecting a roll of saran wrap and carrying it back to the cake mixture. "Where's the frosting?"

"I thought we weren't making the cake?" Kirk glanced curiously toward the older man. He pulled the plastic over the half mixed batter bowl and placed it in the fridge.

"We're not."

Kirk swallowed and grinned to hide his surprise. "Cabinet beside you."

McCoy opened the overhead cabinet and pulled down the small container of chocolate frosting. He rolled it between his hands, locked eyes with Kirk, and walked backwards out of the kitchen. "Jim, you know how much I love chocolate."

Kirk could only nod as his fingers flew up to untie his apron.

"Don't," Bones said in a low growl. "I want you to keep the apron on."

"Sure thing," Kirk said as he followed his lover eagerly out of the kitchen. "Sure thing."


End file.
